the thing about revenge

2 w o : bad moves & spaghettis

"I'm going to do it right now."

"No,"

I watched as Asher, together with Thomas, both stalked over to the round silver table at the centre of the cafeteria, both holding a plate of very saucy spaghetti.

"Yes," I said before I strolled over to the table right in the middle of the cafeteria. I stood behind Asher, earning a few dirty looks from his other table occupants - there were altogether six of them. All whom I recognize and had a bit of history with, with the exception of Thomas and Asher both.

Introducing the stereotypical lead cheerleader, Michelle Dunn. She had long blonde hair and model-like features - I spilt soda on the back of her $300 dress the last time there was a dance in school. She has hated me since then. But then again, she looked like she hated everybody whose fashion sense wasn't on par with hers.

The rest were obviously soccer players. Except for Asher, who was probably too busy playing his kiss and piss off game, to even bother joining an after school sport. Thomas was on the swim team.

There was Mike Gardner, whose foot I had stepped on twice, completely by accident, even though Reese claimed I did it intentionally, while I was in the queue for the food.

Then there was Quentin Wagner, who I smashed against more than three times in the corridors while walking to class. I swear, it was purely by accident. But for a big man, he sure is very petty.

Then we have dear Lawrence Armstrong who just loved to throw crushed up papers at Reese. So, we decided to steal all his papers, assignments, and homework from under his table and crush them up. We then thought that it'd be better to destroy it, but not completely. So, imagine the surprise he got when he saw us both throwing our paper balls - technically, his papers - down into the water fountain on the ground floor that was facing the classrooms. Sure, we were sent to the principal's office to have a little 'talk' about appropriate behaviours, but it was overall worth it.

"Hello everyone, it's me. The awesome Emily Jones. Let's get to know each other! We shall go in a circle starting from-" Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Reese facepalm herself.

"Get lost," Asher growled, without even facing me. "...or the only Jones we all recognize will be the one I-" Before he could even finish his sentence, my oh-so-very clever mind decided to do the worst thing known to mankind.

I dunked his head right into the bowl of spaghetti.

"Oh my god."

Silence.

The only sound I could hear then was the sound of his metal chair scraping against the cement floor. The entire cafeteria fell silent. It felt like those murder shows where the murderer comes in with an axe and walks toward you. You start running, obviously. But somehow, the guy who is walking still manages to kill you. I have no fucking clue.

I took a step backwards as he stood to his full height, towering over my small five feet frame. His face. I stifled a laugh. Tomato sauce dripped from his face as he glared at me. If looks could kill, I would have already disintegrated.

I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the table behind me and shoved them in his face.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." I apologised. I was truly not sorry at all.

He ignored me and my tissues and proceeded to take his shirt off as the entire school gawked at him. Me included. No matter how much I hated this guy and his guts, there was no denying that Asher is the epitome of super, very, incredibly fit. He grabbed his shirt tight and ran it over his face, cleaning all the tomato sauce off. He squashed the shirt up, throwing the stained shirt onto the floor.